


Alla Prima

by a_cascade



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, Pining, Poker Nights, Training, rare pair hell, rated T for now but might go up, slowish burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23113810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_cascade/pseuds/a_cascade
Summary: After poker night with Team Rainbow takes an unexpected turn, Buck finds himself playing a different game altogether.
Relationships: Mike "Thatcher" Baker/Jordan "Thermite" Trace, Sébastien "Buck" Côté/Timur "Glaz" Glazkov
Comments: 10
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a friend! Bit of a rare pair but so are most of the ships in this fandom haha. This was inspired by an interesting little tidbit in the new section of Glaz's bio.

Ash cut the deck and dealt the cards, tossing them face down in front of each of the other players at the table with quick fingers. Buck took a peek at his cards before laying them face down on the table. Two Jacks. It was already a strong hand. Starting out with a pair of high-ranking cards certainly put him at an advantage. It was difficult to suppress his giddiness and not accidentally give away his position to the others. A smile threatened to crack his lips and he rubbed a hand over his beard while he composed himself.

He glanced around at his fellow petty gamblers. Maestro already looked tense. As a somewhat new player, he hadn’t quite grasped the concept of the poker face yet. He’d be the easiest to sweat out. Ash ran her finger along her bottom lip and covered her cards on the table with her hand. With her snapback shielding her eyes she was tough to read. Buck knew she had the grit. She could bluff her way to victory with only a pair of twos, but still, she had her tells. Buck would have to keep a close eye on her. Kapkan was the hardest to read, as usual. He gave away nothing. He breathed slowly and made no sudden movements like a hunter stalking its prey. Buck clacked a chip against the table impatiently.

“Alright, boys, you know the rules,” Ash said as she set what remained of the deck in the center of the table. “Small bills only. I’m not giving up my whole paycheck to you sons of bitches.”

“Are you being cautious or are you just scared?” Kapkan snorted. He pushed a couple of chips into the middle of the table.

The round went fast. Maestro folded early after Buck raised his bet. Ash and Kapkan were both silent, which made him nervous. If they were this focused they must have been harboring strong hands and didn’t want to give anything away by making small talk.

“Alright, lay ‘em out,” said Ash after the final round of bets.

“Read ‘em and weep.” Buck put his cards out on display and heard a hum of approval from Maestro next to him. Neither Ash nor Kapkan looked fazed.

“Good, but not good enough, my friend,” Kapkan said.

_“Tabarnak.”_

The bastard had a straight.

“Not so fast, gentlemen.” Ash set her cards out for them to see. Both of them groaned. She had a flush.

Maestro let out a wild laugh that echoed throughout the lounge, drawing the attention of the other operators. He clapped Buck on his back a little too hard. Kapkan leaned back in his chair and exhaled a breath through his nose.

Thermite, drawn by the ruckus, curiously strolled up to their table and peeked over Ash’s shoulder. “Damn, if I’d known it was poker night I’d have joined y’all.” He let out a low whistle as his eyes trailed over the spread of cards.

“You’re not even supposed to be in here, Trace,” Buck said as he shuffled the deck. Thermite, who was known for being notoriously competitive yet dreadful at poker (a deadly combination), was banned from even stepping foot in the common room until further notice.

"Relax, I'm just watching. Mike won’t find out.” He laid a hand on Buck’s shoulder and leaned in close. “As long as you don’t tell him, that is. Want some pointers, _hmm_?" He waggled his eyebrows.

“Jordan, you’re the worst poker player I’ve ever seen in my life.” Ash scooped up the pot in her arms and dragged it to her corner of the table. She cocked her head to the side mockingly. “And you’re from Texas.” Thermite stammered in disbelief.

“Hey, I’ve got game.” Thermite dug through his pockets and pulled out a handful of crumpled bills. “You wanna play hardball? I’ve got a couple of bucks on me right now. Let’s go, sister—”

_“Jordan."_

Everyone at the table looked across the room. Thatcher stood in the doorway of the lounge with his arms crossed over his chest, the commanding air of a senior officer and seasoned veteran washing off him in waves. Buck wanted to shrink away in his chair at the sight of him.

“Aw, but Mikey, it was just gettin’ good.” Thermite shook his fistful of dollars at him. “Who snitched?”

“M-Mikey?” Maestro sputtered. Buck clapped him on his back until he stopped coughing.

“Come get your man, _Mikey_ ,” Ash teased.

“I could hear you from all the way down the hall. Looks like I arrived just in time to avert a disaster,” Thatcher said as if it were an everyday occurrence. Thermite fell silent as soon as Thatcher’s hand slid onto the small of his back. He looked at his partner sheepishly. “Come on. Time to go, luv.” Thatcher only looked mildly embarrassed when grabbed Thermite by the arm and escorted him out of the room, still throwing taunts at Ash until he was so far down the hall they could no longer hear him.

“Mind if I join?" Glaz stood behind Kapkan with his arms resting on the back of his chair. His muscular arms were on display as he wore a tank top, his hair damp and combed back in a mess of curls, the way he stood with his hips casually cocked to one side, uniform hugging his body a little too tightly. Buck couldn't help but stare. Glaz picked at a stripe of bright yellow paint that had dried up on the hem of his shirt. Then, those dazzling eyes were on him, just the right shade of blue. Glaz smiled at him as if he and Buck were the only ones in on some inside joke. Buck cleared his throat and looked away with a flush.

"If we let Timur join he'll clean out all our wallets," said Ash, "I think I'm going to sit this out."

"I say we give the lad a chance," Maestro scooted closer to Kapkan, creating a space between him and Buck for Glaz to pull up a chair. Buck had never played poker against Glaz and so he didn’t understand what the others were so on edge about, yet he had a sinking feeling that they had just invited the devil to sit at their table.

Glaz turned out to be good company. Buck found his wit and easy-going nature quite charming. But he was also a skilled poker player. Buck felt it in his cards and in his wallet. At some point, Kapkan had left and returned with a bottle of whiskey. After Glaz won his third hand Buck asked him to pass the bottle.

It was getting late. Buck’s nerves buzzed lightly from the booze and he yawned as he lazily shuffled the deck of cards in his hands.

"Let's make this a little more interesting, _da_ _?_ Just one more game." Glaz spoke up. He smiled, but his eyes danced with mischief. "Instead of playing for cash, let's play for favors, hmm?"

"I'd rather just pay you, _blin_." Kapkan tossed a chip at Glaz and he snatched it out the air. Glaz winked.

"Sure, I'll bite," Buck said. And how he wanted to bite. His eyes traced over Glaz’s squared jawline. "Since you've just written your own sentence, you deal." Glaz's fingers brushed against his own as he passed him the cards.

"If you insist." Glaz shuffled the deck once more for good measure, then patted the cards straight against the palm of his hand. He slung out cards with the deft fingers too quick for even Buck's eyes to follow.

Glaz dealt him two kings and he caught himself grinning. He looked up from his cards and found Glaz's eyes. He cleared his throat and looked away, hoping no one else had noticed the slip-up.

Buck's tongue flicked out to moisten his bottom lip. He was already thinking about what he could get Glaz to do for him. Would it be too forward to ask him out? He’d been meaning to for a while now, but with their busy schedules it just never seemed to be the right moment. The two of them were familiar enough and it seemed like Glaz had taken a liking to him lately. He had a hunch Kapkan already knew about his interest in his teammate.

"Is that how we're doing this?" said Buck when Kapkan raised the bet to three favors. Glaz tipped his head forward slowly in a nod. It was a bit unorthodox, but the benefit of playing poker in a group with friends was that they could change the rules however it suited them.

Buck held his breath as they all laid out their cards. Maestro pointedly looked away as if he wouldn't be able to lose so long as he didn't check everyone else's cards.

"Rat bastard," Kapkan grumbled and crossed his arms over his chest. He shook his head ruefully.

Glaz had the highest hand.

Ash gave them all a pitying look. All Buck wanted was to go back to his quarters and get some shut-eye. He was drained.

"What sort of favors are you expecting from us?" Buck asked Glaz. He didn't know what to expect. He hoped Glaz would just ask them to do his chores or something. Certainly nothing he would have to worry about.

"Oh, you'll see."

Kapkan stopped him on the way out, throwing an arm around his shoulders and drawing him close. They huddled together, heads close like a couple of conspirators.

"Be afraid. Be very afraid," Kapkan said low in his ear. His breath reeked of alcohol. "Last time I owed Timur a _favor_ he made me run a mile in the snow. Naked."

"You can't be serious." Buck lamented. He glanced nervously at Glaz's back.

“Oh, I’m serious, _blin_.” Kapkan patted him on the shoulder a little condescendingly. “Good luck.” Buck knew it wasn't entirely genuine, but he suspected he'd really need it anyway.

He owed Glaz three favors.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Sorry, this update took a bit longer than I expected. I had to take a few days off to focus on classes, but I'm finally back with more. Enjoy.

“You want my advice? Like, actually?” Thermite gave him a skeptical look, rubbing his bandaged hands self-consciously.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” Buck said with a yawn. “I should probably ask someone else.”

“No, wait—” Thermite grabbed him by the arm as he moved to stand. “Let me hear you out first. Maybe I can help you sort it out.”

They had a corner of the room all to themselves to speak privately. The mess hall was mostly empty, save for a few other operators who had trickled in for their morning coffee. Mira, Jäger, and Twitch were seated at the end of a long table at the center of the room. He could just barely hear their voices over the sounds coming from the kitchen. Not a moment later, Jackal slumped in looking like walking death. Buck could tell he hadn’t gotten so much as a wink of sleep last night. He offered him a soft, reassuring smile when their eyes met across the room. He picked at what was left of his breakfast. Suddenly he didn’t feel so hungry anymore.

“Is this about Glazkov?” Thermite asked in between sips of his coffee. “I know you’ve sort of got a thing for him, but—”

“What? No, I—” Buck stammered. Thermite gave him a look from over the rim of his mug that said he wasn’t convinced. “I mean, _yes_. But how did you know?”

“Seemed pretty obvious to me.” Thermite shrugged and took a bite of his toast. “I’ve seen the way you look at him. Can’t blame you, really.” 

Buck cleared his throat, "Yes, well…" He scratched through his beard, feeling his face heating up.

“He’s my squadmate. We're not exactly best friends but I know him well enough to tell you about him." Thermite finished off the last bit of his food and leaned back in his chair.

"So what's he like?" 

"Bit of a loner, but real down-to-earth once you get to know him. Bit of a shithead. Ya know, in a good way." Thermite crossed his leg over his knee.

"So like you, then?"

The Texan grinned, "That's right."

Someone laid a hand on his shoulder and it took every ounce of control in Buck’s body for him not to recoil in surprise.

"Sébastien, hey," Glaz greeted him. He and Thermite exchanged a simple nod of acknowledgment. Glaz looked as if he had just returned from showering, his hair still dripping with water. He used the towel around his shoulders to pat his face dry and pushed his damp hair out of his eyes. Buck found it hard not to stare. "I need a favor." Glaz plopped down in the chair next to Buck, one arm thrown over the back of his chair.

Buck's eyebrows knitted together, "What sort of favor are we talking here?"

“Ah, you see, today my unit has the field for training, but it seems I made a small mistake while making the roster.” He rubbed his eye self-consciously, something Buck noticed he did whenever he was troubled. "And that's when I looked at the training schedule for today and realized that I didn't have a spotter." Glaz offered a small smile. "Seeing as you're also a skilled marksman, I thought you'd be the man to ask."

“I really appreciate that, Timur,” Buck said, “But I think—” Glaz’s smile faltered. He heard Thermite clear his throat across the table and when Buck’s eyes flicked over to him the American was making wild, desperate gestures. Buck got the message loud and clear. “Sorry, I misspoke. I’d love to help.”

“Thanks a lot. Really.” Glaz beamed.

“Hey, I owe you, right?” Buck clapped Glaz on the shoulder as he moved to stand. “See you in a bit.”

***

Buck watched for movement through his scope, blades of grass tickling his face whenever he shifted ever so slightly. His eyes narrowed in deep focus. He and Glaz were lying shoulder to shoulder in the brush. He shivered as a gust of wind blew over them. He knew he should have dressed warmer. Glaz seemed unfazed for the most part and well-prepared for the weather conditions. He was an anchoring warmth in the early morning chill. 

They were positioned halfway up on a large hill, lying in the shadow of a tree with low-hanging branches. Ordinarily, they would have been able to see almost the entire clearing below. Between the two of them, no opposition could have passed through undetected, but visibility was down to only a couple hundred meters. The terrain was cloaked in a blanket of thick fog.

Glaz broke the silence, “See anything yet?” He grunted as he rolled his stiff shoulders. Buck spared a glance at the other man thinking he wouldn’t notice. It was just after first light and he could barely make out Glaz’s face in the twilight. Even though Glaz wore his cowl over the lower half of his face he could still make out the line of his jaw, the curve of his cheek. His eyes seemed to shimmer even in the low light.

“Negative,” Buck replied a bit more curtly than he had intended. Was this to be a test of their teamwork or their patience? “Are you sure we came out at the right time?”

“I made the schedule. Of course I’m sure.”

“Yet you neglected to assign yourself a spotter.” Buck hummed softly, “Not the worst thing I’ve done for a favor.” Glaz huffed indignantly at that. Buck adjusted the magnification on the scope. His eyes were starting to get tired.

“What? Not enjoying my company?” Glaz yawned, then drowsily swiped a tear from the corner of his eye. "And here I thought you were starting to like me."

Buck fell silent. He was thankful for the low light that would obscure his face for the most part. His hands felt clammy on the base of the scope. Truth be told, he didn't know Glaz all that well, but there had always been an air of familiarity between them as if they'd known each other for years. Perhaps it was the Russian's relaxed nature or the way he listened attentively no matter what the topic was and soaked up all the details. Maybe it was the way he slipped into deep conversation as easily as breathing when it was just the two of them.

Buck’s attraction to him was undeniable. He had realized it some time ago, but he wasn’t willing to act on his feelings just yet. It was an unusual change for him. He wasn’t one to tiptoe around exchanging smiles and nervous glances. With Glaz it was different. His heart skipped a beat whenever he thought about him. Being so close to him now was both a blessing and a curse.

“Feels like I’m tunneling. Swap with me?” Buck hadn’t realized he’d been staring until Glaz’s brilliant blue eyes met his own. Glaz gave him a questioning look. “What is it? Something on my face?” Glaz made a show of smearing his warpaint.

“No, it’s nothing.” Buck pushed himself up onto his knees. “You’d let me use your rifle? I’m touched.”

“Let’s see you land a shot first, _chuvak_.”

Glaz’s rifle was much lighter than he was used to. Sleeker, too. It seemed more like a tool for artistry than for war. It wasn’t the real thing, of course. This was made for training purposes only. The rounds would hurt like hell but they weren’t lethal. Buck’s fingers traced over all the grooves and scratches of the gun. Long had he watched Glaz use it from afar, wanting to get his hands on his weapon.

“Enemy spotted.” Glaz's hand slid across his back and up to his shoulder, almost too casually, his voice barely a whisper in his ear. “Southwest. 320 meters. Cutting through the bushes.”

“I see him,” Buck replied. “Wind direction and speed?”

“Light breeze. 12 kilometers per hour blowing northwest.”

Buck made the proper adjustments and lined up the shot.

“Deep, slow breaths, Sébastien,” He squeezed Buck's shoulder. “That's it. Nice and steady.” Glaz's voice was sweet on the ears, crisp as the morning air and soothing to his raging mind. He trusted Glaz's judgment more than anyone else’s. All he had to do was obey when he gave the call.

His pulse had slowed considerably to the point where he could accurately time each beat. He could feel it in the palms of his hands as he gripped the rifle tightly. He tuned out all the other sounds around him until all he could hear was Glaz coaching him.

“Send it.”

He fired in between his heartbeats. The sound of the shot was muffled by his protective headset, yet he could hear its echo throughout the clearing, feel the power behind the shot in the recoil of the rifle. Glaz watched for the bullet trail through his scope. The round hit its target and exploded in a cloud of silvery dust. The enemy recoiled from the impact and stumbled on his feet. He braced himself on his knees and weakly raised his hand, signaling that he’d been hit so all others on the field knew not to fire on him as he left the grounds.

 _“Otlichno!”_ Glaz suddenly cupped the back of his head and pulled him close, slipping off his cowl to press a firm kiss to his cheek. The stubble of his beard was rough against his skin. “Well done, my friend. Beautiful shot.” Buck mumbled a soft thanks, unsure of how else to react. He absentmindedly touched the spot on his cheek.

Buck rarely showed any interest in anyone, much less acted on it. He had always been too caught up in his work to take those few precious moments for himself. Sure, he had dated in the past, had even fallen in love, but now he wasn’t so sure if he was ready to tread down that path and let himself be vulnerable again. Sooner or later he would have to figure it out and make a decision before one was made for him.

“Maybe I’m the better marksman after all,” Buck said once he regained his composure. "Now let's see you hit something.”

"That's hardly a challenge. I don't miss."

"You sound awfully confident about that." Buck found that he couldn't help but mirror the smile on Glaz’s face. He gestured for Buck to pass him back his rifle.

“Watch me.” Glaz winked then turned to look through his scope with renewed determination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'll try to get the next chapter out a bit faster. Feedback is appreciated as always.
> 
> Feel free to stop by and say hi to me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/cleverly_not) or [Tumblr](https://jes-jones.tumblr.com/).


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Sorry for not updating this in a while. It's been tough finding time to write lately, but I still have plans to keep adding to this fic whenever I can. Thanks for reading.

Buck followed Glaz along a narrow pathway leading into town, boots scuffing on the cracked pavement that wobbled beneath his feet. A light breeze blew through the valley carrying the scent of freshly baked bread. Herefordshire was an old town and it showed. It was the sort of place where everyone knew each other by name and you couldn’t so much as breathe without the neighbors hearing about it. It was clear in the way the bridge that joined its two halves swayed ever so slightly whenever anyone crossed. The architecture was reminiscent of a time long passed. Homes were overgrown with vines that snaked up and embedded themselves in the stone. 

The locals regarded them with warm yet guarded hospitality, smiles wide but never quite reaching their eyes. Most things were in walking distance, the sprawling cobblestone walkways of the town converging at a single avenue. 

Buck had been at the base for several months now and had only ventured beyond its walls for missions, never of his own volition. Not until Glaz asked him to accompany him into town that afternoon. It was his first real experience of rural England. It seemed Glaz brought along a lot of firsts for him.

A man stepped out in front of them from a converging path, causing Glaz to swerve to avoid him. The man spat out a quick apology and raised his hand in a curt wave before he hurried on.

“We’re here.” Glaz motioned for Buck to follow him as he ducked under the awning of a small boutique with a faded hand-painted sign. A bell jingled as he pushed open the stiff door with his shoulder. Buck bowed his head as he followed him through the threshold so as not to bump his head on the door frame.

Buck choked back a cough as a strong scent of cinnabar assaulted his senses. The air inside was stuffy and uncomfortably warm. To say the shop was cramped would have been an understatement. The shelves were practically bursting with knick-knacks. When he lingered by the door too long, Glaz grabbed him by the arm and pulled him inside. 

“I thought you were looking for a gift for Senaviev.” Buck sneezed into the crook of his arm. “Are you sure we’re in the right place?”

“ _Da_ , I know the owner,” Glaz said as he let the door swing shut. “She’s a very sweet lady from St. Petersburg. I always come here when I’m looking for a piece of home.”

A head of silver peppered hair bobbed amongst the aisles as the shopkeeper weaved her way through the clutter.

“Welcome!” The shopkeeper greeted them as she peeked out from the back. “Please, have a look around. I’ll be right with you.”

“Hello, Mrs. Petrova!” Glaz called out.

“Is that my Timur?” She spread her arms wide and shuffled toward Glaz, who eagerly accepted her hug. Mrs. Petrova planted kisses on both of Glaz’s cheeks before pulling away. “It is so good to see you, _zaychik_. Look at you. Have you been eating well? Why don’t you sit down and have some biscuits? I made them this morning.” Her eyes landed on Buck and she stopped as if startled to see him there. Her eyes traced over him appraisingly. “And who is this? Is he with you?” Buck shuffled nervously under the scrutiny of her gaze.

“Sébastien. We work together.” Buck said quickly, unable to say much else. He strangely felt as if he was under evaluation.

“Ah, so you do.” The woman seemed amused by him.

“Don’t let him fool you. He’s not as shy as he looks.” Glaz winked. Buck cleared his throat and looked away, pretending to take interest in a wooden doll on the shelf next to him. “We’re pretty close.”

“Well, any friend of Timur is more than welcome here,” Mrs. Petrova beamed, though she continued to watch him closely. Buck could tell she was a loving yet sensibly cautious woman. The corners of her eyes and mouth crinkled as she smiled. She turned and playfully patted Glaz’s cheek like she would her son. “Come, I have what you asked for.”

"Be right back," Glaz said to Buck before following Mrs. Petrova deeper into the shop.

Once they were out of sight Buck let out a huff. It seemed he had passed whatever test the shopkeep had for him.

Buck wasn’t sure how long Glaz and the shopkeeper had been gone. He wandered the shop, stopping to look at anything that caught his eye. There was a wooden, hand-painted doll with round, rosy cheeks. She wore a dress of vibrant, blooming flowers and a headscarf to match. He picked it up to get a closer look, only to find that it was hollow on the inside and another smaller doll was hidden inside. He carefully set the doll back on the shelf.

“There you are. Hey.” A heavy hand landed on Buck’s shoulder. Glaz presented a box of small round cakes covered in powdered sugar. “Have some. They’re good.”

“Actually, I—” Buck watched as Glaz popped one in his mouth and licked the sugar from his fingers. His lips suddenly felt dry. Glaz tipped the box of sweets towards him with an expectant look on his face. “Alright, I’ll have one.”

Buck picked the one with the most sugar and bit into it. It was a little dense and a bit dry, but not too sweet. He could see why Glaz liked them. Once he finished he clapped the residual powdered sugar from his hands. Glaz chuckled.

“What?” said Buck.

“You’ve got sugar on your face.”

Buck brushed along his chin and around his mouth. “Better?”

“Here, let me help.” Glaz stepped in, close enough for Buck to see the individual hairs of his beard. He reached out with clever fingers and gently cupped the underside of Buck’s chin and swiped his thumb along the Canadian’s lower lip. Buck’s heart thudded in his ears. Glaz sucked the powder off the tip of his thumb, almost erotically, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Buck’s eyes trained onto the appendage and he found himself mesmerized by the pair of lips wrapped around it.

“Mm. Do you want more? There’s plenty left.”

Buck swallowed. “I... I think I’m good, thanks.”

“More for me, then.” Glaz shrugged. “We should get going, don’t you think?”

All Buck could do was nod. He didn’t trust himself to speak at that moment.

Glaz plucked another pastry from the box and left the aisle. Buck stared after his retreating form in disbelief. _There’s no way that just happened, right?_ He took a deep breath and found it did little to settle his nerves. He was having a hard time convincing himself that this wasn’t a date. He absentmindedly ran a finger along his bottom lip, chasing after the lingering feeling of Glaz’s touch.

“Séb!” Glaz called. “Move your ass. It’s time to go.”

“Leaving so soon?” said Mrs. Petrova.

“‘Fraid so.” Glaz tapped on the face of his watch. “The others will be on my ass if I’m late for another briefing.”

“Alright, dear. Come back soon. Take care.”

Buck thanked the shopkeeper for the sweets and followed Glaz out. He hoped she hadn’t caught any of their exchange just now, but something about her smile suggested otherwise. He figured it’d be best if he didn’t step foot in Herefordshire for a while, for fear of dying from embarrassment.

Now that they were back out in the cool air, sun peeking out from behind the thick cloud cover, Buck felt more at ease. By that point, it was nearing the evening. There were fewer people out on the streets. He shivered as a chilly wind blew through the valley and tightened his scarf around his neck.

“So, what exactly did you ask Mrs. Petrova to get for you?” Buck gestured to the bag Glaz carried at his side.

Glaz grinned, “The key to any productive evening with your comrades.” He lifted the object so that it just barely peeked out from the bag. It was the neck of a bottle of vodka.

Buck raised his eyebrow. “What kind of briefing involves alcohol?”

Glaz gently lowered the bottle back into the bag. There was a clink as it bumped another object. He was likely hauling several more bottles of liquor. “The fun kind.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed the fic, please feel free to leave a comment here or stop by my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/cleverly_not) or [Tumblr](https://jes-jones.tumblr.com/)! Feedback, as always, is much appreciated.


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